


Made From Ashes

by brandibees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Original Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandibees/pseuds/brandibees





	1. Made From Ashes

The laughter of adolescent kids echo through the train cars around me as the engine chugged to life and lurched forward. I was the eldest passenger upon this train which had caused a ruckus with the children aboard. They were all guessing who I was though many would know if they were given my birth name. The only ones who took this train were the gifted children who were to be taken to an enchanted school far away from the eyes of the normal people where they can express their gift without judgment. This train was known as the Hogwarts Express and we were indeed in route to Hogwarts itself.

  
The sound of the sliding door jerked my attention away from the Witch Weekly magazine that floated in the air in front of me. The source of the opening door was an older woman with a tender smile. “Anything from the cart, dear?” she asked with a tender voice as children surrounded her.

  
I dug through my bag for a couple of galleons. “Peach Rings, Watermelon Strips, and a Liquorice Wand, please.” I drop the galleons in her open hand as she hands me the bags of sweets. “Thank you and please keep the change.” I smiled from underneath the brim of my sunhat.

  
I stare out the window as I place a sugar covered orange ring onto my tongue. The chewy texture ripping as I use my teeth to roll it around my tongue. It’s just a humbling feeling that something so normal can feel so magical. The candy isn’t enchanted, magically enriched, or anything more than sugar and flavoring that was made by hands that might as well be muggle. I guess some things aren’t any sweeter with magic.

  
The landscape changes as we pass through forests, plains, and across great valleys on what seems to be an endless journey. The eerie thing is that nothing is out here. Not a single cottage or road marks the landscape other than this one track. It’s so peaceful and untouched that it seems almost enchanted. I wouldn’t be surprised if it really was.

  
It was dark when the train began to slow down as we approached the Hogsmeade station. I popped the last Watermelon Strip into my mouth and began to gather up my belongings and put them back in my bag. I rose to my feet and adjusted my dress. Here we go I thought to myself as I took a deep breath and slid open the glass door. The kids were too busy to notice me as I moved passed them. The train slowly came to a halt as kids began to pour out of the booths and line up at the doors. I stood there, first in line, as the doors opened.

  
An inhumanly gigantic man stood on the platform as the kids began to flood out of the train in their school uniforms. “Welcome to Hogsmeade! I am Hagrid.” His voice boomed over the chatter of the students. He was taken aback when he looked down to notice me. “You must be You-Know-Who.” His gruff voice low and smile wide. He broke his attention away from me. “Everyone follow me!”

  
We followed the large to the edge of Black Lake where a collection of small rowboats sat waiting for passengers. The old wooden boats creaked and cried with the weight of their passengers boarding them. The cool wood was worn with years of use with scratches and blemishes. The light of their lanterns revealed their personalities. Names were burned and etched into the old wood. Each name belonged to a student who had once taken this trip as a first year. Claria Montigus, Al Hawthorne, and K.Gregory were all names that I could see clearly from where I sat. I couldn’t help but wonder who they were and where they are now.

  
The lake wascovered in a thick dark fog that made it almost impossible to see in the darkness of dusk. The night sky was spotted with bright stars that began to reflect off the water as the fog began to clear. In the distance was a dark silhouette that was only illuminated by the moon behind it and light that shown through its windows. It was a massive building with towers that scraped against the night sky. It was something that you would hear about in the fairytales we were told as young children. Hogwarts was as beautiful as anyone could dream it to be.

 

We made our way up the stairs from the docks to the entrance of the castle. I ignored Hagrid as he directed the kids through the castle. I stood in the center of the grand foyer; observing the room around me. It was magical and much different than any of the wizarding schools that I had gone to. The statues stood with pride and the paintings watched in curiosity at me. Just this room could tell me a million stories that I wanted to hear and teach me a million things that I didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine what the rest of the castle was like.

 

“Come with me” Hagrid called from the doorway. “We have a special place for you.” Hagrid led me through the building to a large door.

  
The large wooden door opens in front of me to reveal a great hall. The gothic style of the room was much like a Roman Cathedral. The ceiling seemed to never end with the enchantment of the night sky moving across the rafters and illuminated candles floating overhead. Gothic style windows towered the height of the walls to light the hall during the day. The room contained four lengthy tables that stretched to where another table stood overlooking them. That was obviously where the professors sat due to its higher elevation and elegant design compared to the plainness of the others.

  
“I’ve brought You-Know-Who.” Hagrid’s booming voice interrupted my observation.

  
I looked up to notice that we weren’t alone. An older man was making his way toward us from a group of people at the far end of the room. The man had a long white beard and wore a grey cloak that dragged behind him as he walked. He looked like Santa Clause but I’d never say that straight to his face since he probably had no clue who that was.

  
“Welcome to Hogwarts” The old man smiled and held out his hand for me to shake. “I am Albus Dumbldore; headmaster.”

 

I took his hand politely with a smile. “Remilia LeDou–” I caught myself. “Black. Thank you for having me.”

  
Dumbldore observed me though his glasses and motioned me to follow him. “The last time I saw you, Remilia, you weren’t but seven and had a bad habit of getting into trouble with your brother’s wand.”

  
“Whoever’s idea it was to leave those boys in charge of me wasn’t great.” I chuckled at the thought of my brother and his friends trying to teach a child spells when our parents weren’t home. I hadn’t realized it had been Albus who had come home with my parents to find that I had turned our old cat into a lion and locked it in the basement.

  
“You had incredible power at a young age. It’s a pity that we had to make you…” Albus trailed of ass he led me up to the head table. “This is your seat while you are here. I’ll announce you after the houses get assigned and such.” He pulled the large chair out for me to take a seat. “Are you sure you want to go by Black?”

  
“Yes, Black.” I could feel my knees shaking underneath the table. “Remilia Black” I whispered underneath my breath.

  
The Black family was a well-known and powerful wizarding family that was respected. I thought it would be the best name to go by considering the consequences. It wasn’t like I was actually lying because I am a Black. My mother was one before taking her married name but I had always gone by the LeDoux name of my adoptive family. Remilia LeDoux was the infamous young witch that was controlled by the International Magic Council. Remilia Black was just another pureblood heir.

  
The room began to fill with kids with thick black robes. They all wore ties of yellow, red, blue, or green which kept them sorted between the houses. Some would look up at me puzzled before taking their seats while others were too busy gabbing to even look up. In minutes they were all seated and the professors were nearly all seated.

  
“Ms. Black, is it?” A man with shoulder length black hair and black robe took the seat next to me. “Severus Snape”

  
I smiled at the man. “Remilia Black, and you went to school with my brother, didn’t you?” I held out my hand which he took reluctantly.

  
“Unfortunately yes” He said unemotionally as he poured a glass of wine.

  
I didn’t respond as I poured myself a drink. I had always seen my brother as a hero but I guess some didn’t. Severus obviously didn’t and was rather rude about it. I guess this was a sign that I was in for it.

  
A professor took the stand as a group of kids came up to the front of the room. They were first years and looked scared shitless as they took in the room around them. I couldn’t blame them though because I felt the same way.

  
Dumbledore rose to his feet to address a few things to the first years before speaking about me. “We also have a guest here at Hogwarts. Remilia Black.” He motioned toward me as I rose to my feet. “She will be lurking around the halls. Please treat her as you would a professor.” He spoke over the chatter of the crowd before sitting back down.

  
The professor below held out a hat that she explained was for sorting the kids into the houses that best fit them. She called the first name of a girl with fluffy brown hair and quickly sorted her into Gryffindor. I couldn’t help but wonder what I would have been sorted into if I had come to Hogwarts myself.

  
The second name that was called caught my attention. Draco Malfoy. He looked like his father with slick backed pale blonde hair and grey eyes so light that they shined like ice. Draco walked up to the chair with a cockiness to him that comes with being pureblood. The hat didn’t even come out of the professor’s hand before it yelled out Slytherine. Of course that was expected since Slytherine was in his blood. Both of his parents had been in the Slytherine house and were very big supporters. His mother, Narcissa, was a second cousin of mine and offered to take me in when I was orphaned because she ‘couldn’t bare to see a pureblood fall into the hands of a muggle’. Theoretically it would have been ideal for the Ministry of Magic to do so. I looked very similar to her with my long blonde hair and elegance but it would have been a shame if I had been raised with her snobbish attitude. To them it wouldn’t have been anything but a publicity stunt to take me in and turn me into another powerful Malfoy-Slytherine heir. To them it wouldn’t have been about my well-being but for their own ego.

  
It wasn’t till a few names later that I got pulled away from my thoughts. As the professor spoke the name I could feel my heart drop into my stomach. The room erupted with chatter as they spoke his name. Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He looked like a mini version of his father with his mother’s bright green eyes. The zigzag scar on his forehead was barely visible through the hair that covered his forehead but it was him. The hat was placed on his head and it seemed as if the whole room had held their breath as the hat mumbled to itself. Slytherine would be a good choice considering his pureblood status but a boy with that kind of potential could be dangerous if he came into the hands of the pureblood Slytherine families.

  
“Gryffindor” The hat called out and I sighed in relief. It was a good choice. His parents would be proud. Both of his parents were Gryffindor Alumni.

  
When the sorting and speeches were finished we ate. The feast was huge with everything you could possibly wish for. I dished a scoop of mash potatoes onto my plate before covering it with hot gravy, a slice of chicken breast, a scoop of peas and carrots, and a fresh roll covered in sweet butter. I blew on the spoonful of potatoes and gravy before popping it into my mouth. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I missed a proper meal. When you travel you try to try all that you can and somewhere along the way I had forgotten to miss what I used to have. It reminded me of home with my real parents and my brother.

  
“Ms. Black, you are a user of the Dark Arts, correct?” Snape spoke quietly so that I was the only one to hear him. “I assume that you have come to rejoin your family’s regime.”

  
I took a sip of wine. “You should know that I dabble in many arts including the Dark Arts. I would suspect that you would know that considering that everyone who reads a paper could tell you so.” I hissed words full of poison. “As you already know; my family ties were torn the day I was sent away. I am here for my own personal reasons.” I ground my teeth at the thought of what he was thinking and what so many others were as well. Remilia Black, the magic prodigy? She must be back to rejoin that fallen family. She would be a powerful asset to the Lord. Black, it’s her blood, of course she was going to stand up for them. She must be a Death Eater.

  
“Pity” He spoke nonchalantly as he shoved a spoonful of peas into his mouth.

  
I shoved a piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed vigorously as I cursed him in my mind. It pissed me off that I was automatically assumed to be a Death Eater. I guess I should have known that that by coming back here, I’d be associated with such thoughts. The whole reason I was sent away was so that I couldn’t get involved with who was left after the war. The Ministry sent me off to the IMC to make my life less complicated. That was bullshit.

  
I finished my food in record speed without saying a word because if I wasn’t keeping my mouth busy eating; I’d truly give Snape a piece of my mind. Of course a short temper mixed with a little bit of prejudgment was always my downfall. I wasn’t very popular in the friend department but that was my own doing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore was the only friend I’d have here at Hogwarts.


	2. First Day

My first day at the school was just like all my previous first days. I was followed by curious eyes and quiet assumptions that I pretended not to notice, and even after all these years they still made my heart beat a little faster and my anxiety a little louder. I had always been the new girl; a mystery under the brim of a sunhat. No one knew who I was and no one was ever going to know because they couldn’t. I couldn’t even say that I knew who I was. I was an actress with a new script every time the ministry sent me away. They never gave me a chance to know anything other than what they wanted me to.

I wandered the halls in search of peace. These silent halls seemed to scream at me in the voices of the dead but there was no sign of a ghost. I knew it was all in my head. I had never faced the reality that is my past and now that I’m standing in the very place where my entire past was built. For hundreds of years my blood has walked these halls and it somehow makes me feel like a fraud for only coming here after finishing school. Even though I know it’s not my fault, I still feel as if I’m a blood-traitor.

The soothing rhythm of my footsteps against the stone floor created a melody that announced my presents to those ahead of me and by those, I mean the residents of the enchanted paintings that hung upon the walls as I passed. They whispered to one another as if I couldn’t tell what they were talking about. Their interest in me was something I wasn’t sure of. 

As I made my way through the courtyard I could hear the voices of children erupt into the halls as their classes got out. Most were chatting about their classes this year or their petty gossip as they pass by. When I made it halfway across the covered bridge I found a nice place to sit and look over the landscape as the students busily moved toward their next classes. 

The view from the bridge was phenomenal. In fact, it was just the way that my brother had described it when I was a kid. He always said that you could see a million miles both ways and for once, he was right. The forest seemed to reach as far as the eye could see and if you looked closely at the lake you could swear that you saw the giant squid who supposable roamed under the surface. The view was indeed as breathtaking as I had thought it would be but for some reason there was something uneasy about the view itself. I just hoped it was just my nerves that made me feel this way but I decided to ignore my feelings and stay on my little ledge while I had peace and quiet. I pulled out a sketchbook and took in the crisp air and scenery as I drew.

As the classes got out for the day and seemed to crowd the small bridge, I decided to make my way back to somewhere quiet. Unfortunately for me, quiet was pretty much impossible to find. There were kids everywhere with wands and spell books and chocolate frogs that never seemed to take a breath as they chatted loudly amongst each other. The halls echoed their laughter through every inch of the building as if there with thousands upon thousands of students to be found. To tell you the truth, it made me a little uneasy.

When I did found a quiet hallway I quickly found a windowsill to perch myself on and pulled out one of my mother’s old spell books. The book was tattered and torn from years of use. I can’t even recall a time I even performed a spell from the book, considering that I never used my wand. To me it was just something to keep my mother on my mind when my memory faltered. 

I wish I could say that I remember my mother vividly but I was only seven when she died. I can barely remember her voice and sometimes I can smell the lavender perfume she used to wear. My memories are faint and delicate but I hold onto them in hope that maybe someday I might remember more. 

The sound of a slamming door from behind made me drop to my feet with my hands up in defense.

“Ah, Miss Black,” A greying woman glanced at me over a pair of reading spectacles. “Minerva McGonagall; Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House.” She stepped towards me with a hand held out.  
I lowered my hand to grasp hers. “You’re Professor McGonagall?” As the words escaped my mouth I could feel my heart fall into my stomach. 

Minerva nodded with a kind smile. “Are you okay, Miss Black?” 

“It’s not even noon and I’m overwhelmed. I—” I stutter as my mind tries to find the words to reveal the way I feel. The truth is that I don’t have a clue how I feel. I’ve never felt this kind of pain in gut and emptiness in my heart. “It’s as if I’m falling apart.”

Minerva’s face fell with sorrow. “It’s hard to fall apart when you were never whole to begin with.” Her words brought a mist to my eyes as my smile faded. “It is funny how we can be shattered and still find a way to put ourselves back together.”

“I just don’t know how to start.” I tried to regain my calm and force the lump in my throat to go down.

“What are you talking about?” Minerva’s brows furrowed as she placed her hands on my shoulders. “You started to put yourself back together the moment you arrived into this country. It may take a hundred years to piece yourself back to the way you were before the war but you will.” 

The look in her eyes was so much like my mother’s in that moment that I couldn’t control the tear that fell down my cheek. I knew that Minerva had known my parents and my brother but I didn’t know how well until now. At that moment I knew that she knew. I knew that she knew everything. She knew me because she knew them. 

“You know you aren’t the only one trying to piece themselves together.” Minerva patted my shoulder as she began to step away. “At least you knew who you were before the war. That boy has a life he’s never even known about till now and he’s going to need our help to know the truth.”

Minerva left without another word and I was left with only my thoughts. I knew she was right. I knew where I came from and who I was supposed to be but Potter didn’t know anything. That child had no clue who he was or who he could be when everyone else in the wizarding world knew it all. That poor child had put himself together from scratch while I have all the pieces to the puzzle. I just don’t know if I can help him. I don’t even know if I want to.

To tell the truth, I don’t think that boy needs to know anything. This is a chance to start over and create a life for himself. His past is just pain and his future is so bright. How can someone take that away from him by telling a truth that makes his past much worse than it already is? I can’t help but wish that the Ministry had sent him away like they had to me. Maybe if they had done that, he might be spared the truth. Then again, what am I kidding, you can’t run from the truth that is burning in your veins.


End file.
